The past week or so has been a project nightmare. I feel as if I’ve ripped twice as much as I’ve knit. Even my dye jobs, which are normally cake-like in their simplicity, have gone wrong. Good thing that Miss Beek’s birthday halter is already finished, ‘cause I am all thumbs. Currently I’m covered with lint from Touch Me, a synthetic chenille with an unfortunate name. My lord, why didn’t my LYS mention that the stuff sheds worse than my cat? Beek’s entire household was sneezing. I’m hoping that a wash in Dr Bronner’s will help; if anybody knows another way to de-fuzz it, there’s a skein of your choice in it. Whew.

My head has been equally hard to manage. Several times I’ve sat down to update, only to find that there were decisions to be made first. How much do I share without crossing a line? When it comes to other people, I put their privacy first – there’ll be very little here about the amazing man I’m interested in, for instance, because that would be unforgivably rude. There are other subjects, though, whose appropriateness is less easy to determine. For instance, one of the current projects that I’ve been grumbling over is a little on the kinky side. I personally don’t find it offensive (obviously), and I’m open with friends about it. But I’m unsure if I want to be known online as the woman who knits “those things”. Until I can find a way to be comfortable with it and not write a 3,000 word manifesto descrying my reasoning, I have to remain mum. At which, of course, I suck.

So that’s the lay of the land. As we speak I’m attempting an overdye with Darma Trading’s Procion dyes of a new knitting bag. Hopefully this project will break the fumblefingers cycle.

And of course, if anybody has views they’d like to share about choosy blogging, please share.

One of Megami's Sai Bo rolls (crab, cucumber, unagi) Two Season Five episodes of Sex and The City with Ron Livingston. (Yum).Three 12 ounce bottles of chilled, unfiltered Sho Chiku Bai Nigori Sake.Four friends in an equatorially hot NorCal city.Five hours of unsuccessfully trying to sleep.Six Advil.Seven glasses of water.Eight hours of dazed employment at a major university.Nine uses of the word "fuck" before ten a.m.Ten a.m. meeting with bosses #1, 2, 4 and 5."Fuck" number eleven.